I read with sorrow about the closing of the Woodbridge Airport {Metro, June 1}. During the early 1980s when we lived in neighboring Lake Ridge, my pre-school daughter and I frequently staked out a grassy perch on the outskirts of the runway to watch the little planes soar into the evening sky.

When the moon was out, my daughter would wonder whether the pilots had remembered their spoons so they could reach out and get a scoop of vanilla ice cream. (We didn't subscribe to the green-cheese theory). Afterward, we would go to the nearby High's store to buy a "piece of the moon."

About 30 years earlier, my father regularly took me to the tiny barbershop at the Washington Virginia airport (now Baileys Crossroads). Watching the planes was as much a part of getting a haircut as was the lollipop awarded for good behavior.

Now both airports have been swallowed by developers who never pass up a chance to bring us more misery and congestion while obliterating the charm of the land they devour. One reason we fled Lake Ridge in 1984 was that commuting from there had become intolerable.

If I had my way, not one greedy developer would ever be permitted to perish from this earth. Instead, he would be condemned to spend eternity going round and round the Beltway in perpetual gridlock.

H. G. SIMKINS Alexandria